


For the Need of Things that Home Cannot Give Me

by coldfiredragon



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Fluff, I don't want to say too much and spoil it, M/M, queliot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-04 23:27:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16799170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldfiredragon/pseuds/coldfiredragon
Summary: After saving Eliot from the Monster Margo realized that there were things that Fillory couldn't give Eliot as he struggled to heal.





	For the Need of Things that Home Cannot Give Me

**Author's Note:**

> I don't want to say too much and give it away! Enjoy the fluff!

After they had managed to free Eliot from the Monster it had been unavoidably evident that Eliot had not been okay. Leaving him had been inconceivable, but as days of therapy had dragged into weeks without much progress, Margo had reluctantly admitted that she had to go back to Fillory. She'd left her kingdom unattended for longer than she'd ever planned and stepping through the clock between one world and the other had topped her hardest things she'd ever had to do list. It had made her finally understand how gutted Eliot had been the afternoon the two of them had left Quentin in the care of Fillory's centaur healers in the days following the Beast attack. It was like leaving part of her heart behind, but she'd done it. She'd done it because she had recognized that her best friend needed different things to heal than Fillory could give him. 

It had been two months in Fillory time, which meant it had probably only been a couple of weeks on Earth. Things that had been in disarray before her return had almost automatically fallen in line once the Fillorians had processed that their chosen leader had returned. Her day to day routine was almost dull, and the itch to go back to Earth long enough to check on her family had been growing at an almost exponential rate. It wasn't that Margo felt uninformed because she didn't. There had been a steady stream of bunnies from both Quentin and Eliot, but there was only so much that could be garnered from the series of four-word progress reports. What bothered her was that the short missives had started to get sparse. 

“I think we are perfectly capable of handling a short absence, Your Highness.” Tick had needled when she'd suggested the idea. Margo was sure they could, especially if she kept the visit to a few short Earth hours. Plus, now that magic had been restored and freed she'd started working on a rudimentary alert system that could call her home if the need arose. All it needed was its first test run. Margo raised her hands and guided them through a few delicate spell motions. It was like dipping her fingers into a pond and watching the gentle ripples. A few hours wouldn't hurt, and a visit would soothe the worry that had gathered like a fog in the back of her brain.

Rafe and Abigail were the first advisers she found, and Margo trusted them enough to let the news trickle down from there. She'd hopefully be gone a couple of days tops, just long enough to check on Eliot's progress, and because time moved slower on Earth, she wouldn't even have to pack a bag. Magic made the short journey to the portal tree a nearly effortless endeavor then she was stepping through the tree, through the clock, and into the penthouse where they had coped together while they had been trying to save magic from the library and Eliot from the god's mistake. 

When everyone had split to go their separate ways in the aftermath, her boys had claimed it for their own, and she saw now that they had started tailoring it. The furniture had changed to fit Eliot's tastes better, and small personal knick-knacks littered the available surfaces. A pair of short stationery boxes were piled on top of one another on the dining table, but Margo wasn't curious enough to bother to look. A tall mirror, angled, so it really wasn't useful stood off to the side in the corner of the living room. It was late, and the lower floor only had enough lights on to keep someone from tripping across the furniture, thankfully Margo had spent enough time here to know where the stairs were. To her surprise, their bedroom was empty, not unlived in empty, but momentarily devoid of people empty. Where were they? It was late, but not quite last call late; it was possible they had gone out and weren't home yet.

That was... fine, a little unnerving, but not an end of the world scenario. If Eliot felt better, if he'd made that much progress than that was terrific; it was better than she could have hoped or dreamed. With nothing to do in their absence, she headed back to the kitchen. A quick rummage in the cabinets yielded popcorn, and it suddenly struck Margo how much she missed Earth's junk food. While the microwave hummed, she raided their fridge and grinned at what she found. Eliot had started baking in excess. The remnants of at least a dozen different cakes, down to about a slice or two apiece, lined the shelves. The clear cellophane over each had been labeled with a little white sticker with the cake flavor and icing penned in Eliot's elaborate script. Margo found a strawberry cake with a champagne frosting, and cut herself a slice, then got a can of Coke and carried her 'meal' to the couch. She sank into the leather cushions with a pleased groan. This was what she had needed, junk food and television. 

The bowl was down to unpopped kernels when the mirror sparked into a portal, and Eliot stepped through. It had apparently been more than a couple of weeks since she'd gone back to Fillory, and Margo wondered when the switch had gotten flipped where time passed faster on Earth than it did there. He'd been near, well catatonic wasn't the right word, but close. Eliot certainly hadn't been functioning on the level she saw now. 

“Bambi,” He breathed in surprise. Margo waved and set the plate with the last bites of her cake on the cushion beside her so she could get up to hug him. 

“You look better!” She cheered as his arms circled her and crushed her close. He'd cut his hair short again, back into the neat coif he'd been so attentive of in school. The pants, vest, and shirt were a high-quality monotone black, worn in a relaxed way, with the collar open and the sleeves rolled past the elbow. A messenger bag was slung across his chest.

“Better's the best you can do? Considering the wreck I was when you left, I think I'm doing more than better.” There was a lightness to his tone that masked something deeper. Eliot was deceptively good at masks, and she wondered how much of what she saw was real and how much of it was forced. 

“Great, wonderful, _Spectacular_.” She praised, emphasizing his kingly moniker at the end. He gave a short laugh as he let her go.

“ _Better_ , I suppose.” Margo punched him lightly in the arm as a grin widened across her face. She hadn't expected this, but it was a pleasant surprise. If he was doing so well, it was only a matter of time before he and Quentin moved back home to Fillory... hell the three of them might even be able to go back together. “So where were you, and where's your resident super-nerd?” 

“I was at work, and if Quentin's not home yet, I imagine he fell asleep in his office again.” 

“Wait, since when does Quentin have an office? And you both have jobs? How long was I gone exactly?” A frown twisted across her face as her gaze skated down him to notice for the first time the white ID badge that was clipped to a belt-loop. The basic black wasn't so much a copy of Quentin's style as it was a uniform.

“It's been like eight months for us, which is probably chicken scratch to you considering how much more quickly time moves in Fillory.”

“No, it's... I guess with some wires got crossed when magic got turned on and off and fucked with so much. It's only been two months or me, so I assumed a couple of weeks for the two of you. I was getting bunnies almost daily, so I didn't think anything was wrong, then there were fewer of them, and I wanted to make sure everything was going alright.” Something unpleasant twisted in her belly. She'd had every intention of supporting him; instead, she felt like she'd gone back to Fillory and abandoned him. No, that wasn't it. What hurt was that they'd stayed on Earth for months and assumed it was longer for her. They had no intention of moving back.

“That's, well we obviously didn't know!” Eliot lifted the bag off his shoulder to drop it onto an empty spot on the dining table.

“You couldn't be bothered to visit? In eight months?” 

“We thought it was longer for you.” 

“All the more reason! What you were waiting for me to make the first visit?” They weren't looking at one another; the conversation had gone off the rails that quickly. 

“No, it's, fuck.” A bottle of whiskey flew towards his hand. “It's not like that. You're right; we should have stayed in contact better. It's not your fault.”

“But you thought it was!” She challenged. 

“I was trying not to blame anyone! We're living in two completely separate worlds, where time's an unpredictable bitch.” The delicate mask he'd managed was starting to strain; Margo could see the corner started to peel. “We needed different things, Margo.”

“You could have visited.” She murmured. He sat down the whiskey bottle and gripped the top of the nearby dining chair; he held it as if he needed it to keep standing.

“Well I was afraid to, I was terrified that my life would get derailed again and all the progress I'd made would be wasted. I like my job, the routine is good for me. It helps me feel normal, and after what that thing did to me I needed normal. We didn't try to leave you out it just happened.” 

“Did you at least miss me?” Margo regretted the words as soon as she uttered them. The look Eliot gave her was scalding like she'd said something scandalous. 

“Of course we missed you!” He sniped like he couldn't believe that she'd dare suggest such a thing to him. They needed to diffuse the situation before it spun more out of control. 

“So Quentin has an office? What is he, like some magically placed upper-level executive with a six-figure salary?” She'd only ever been given the bare bones explanation of Quentin's temporary office job when he'd given up magic. Eliot laughed.

“Actually he's teaching, a junior professor at Brakebills. He went back to finish while I was struggling to get my shit together and Henry realized pretty quick that he'd outpaced anything the curriculum could teach him, so he passed him, and hired him. Q loves it.” 

“So the two of you are going to stay here?” The question rolled off her tongue. Eliot's eyes darted, looking anywhere but into her eyes. 

“We didn't plan to. You had been gone three months when Quentin got hired, and I hadn't made much progress.” She could see the bob of his adam's apple when he swallowed. “It was the kick in the ass I needed, I guess. The idea that he might get bored babysitting my traumatized ass scared the fuck out of me. 

“After the lengths Q went to save you, there's no way he's leaving you, El.” Margo cut the distance between them to rub his back. His knuckles had gone white as they continued to grip the chair, and the selection of subtle accent rings stood out in contrast. 

“Empirically I know that, but the irrational part of my brain says something different. I couldn't wrap my mind around why he would still want me after everything that monster used my body to do.”

“That wasn't you.” 

“Technically it was.”

“Fuck technicality.” Margo walked behind him and smoothed her hands over his shoulders and down his sides. “We love you, El. I'm sorry I wasn't here for you.” He melted under the gentle sweep of her fingers.

“It's not your fault. You're High King, and you have a kingdom to run. I understand I know how much energy and attention it requires.” One hand released the chair as he turned to loop his arm around her. His lips pressed briefly to her hair. “I'm proud of you, Bambi. There wasn't much you could have done if you had been here. I needed to realize that nobody could put me back together but me. You would have been sitting and twiddling your thumbs while your people needed you.” Margo hated when he was right. 

“So Q's teaching, where are you working?” 

“This bar, Penny found it. It's in its own little inter-dimensional pocket space, and it caters to our kind, magicians and magical creatures. When I talked about how much I'd enjoyed it, my therapist suggested that getting into a routine might help me feel more in control. I was... skeptical at first, but it helps it keeps my head busy. So I work, I have therapy twice a week, I do yoga.” His grin was almost sheepish over the admission of the last bit. 

“And I saw that you started to bake, excessively. Quentin must have gained fifteen pounds from all the sugar.” His face crinkled in confusion, then his eyes widened as understanding dawned on him. A finger tapped teasingly against her nose.

“You raided our fridge.” The arm around her settled near her waist, and he finally released the chair to guide her into the kitchen. The fridge's interior lights brightened the space once he'd yanked the door open. “Which ones did you try?” He reached into the appliance to shuffle the plates. Margo saw the hint of sparkle on the band across one finger in almost the same moment that she realized Eliot hadn't baked anything. 

“Have the two of you set a date yet?” Eliot's hand rested on the top edge of the refrigerator door. Across the room, the lid flew off the top stationery box. One of the envelopes lifted from the rest and darted it to his hand. He held it out to her. 

“We are just celebrating what's been a reality for us for a lifetime. We haven't really revealed the plan to anyone yet, so you're one of the first to know.” 

“You could have told me in a bunny.” Margo pulled at the personalized sticker, a scripted Q&E, to lift the flap that held the envelope closed. She tugged the card free and opened it. Big hands gripped her shoulders before she had a chance to read it. 

“Believe me, Bambi. I know from experience that the last thing you want to hear via bunny is that your best friend is getting married.”

“You would know best.” They both smiled, and Margo stepped into his arms to rest her cheek against his chest. “I guess you already have everything planned.” She could feel the laugh as it rumbled free from his chest. 

“Oh gods no! The only things we've settled on are the date and venue. Everything else is up in the air.” He pushed her away a little. “Sit, and I'll make you a sample plate. Quentin and I have narrowed it down, but my darling fiance is hopelessly indecisive when it comes to the subtleties of event planning. Color schemes and a flair for the dramatic are lost on him.” The messenger bag he'd dropped hovered off the table, floated to the couch, then upended itself and vomited forth a stack of wedding magazines onto the cushion beside her. As the pile oozed closer, Margo picked up the one on top and flipped through it. Flags in six colors lined the edges of each catalog, marking Eliot's preferences in a color-coded scheme of indecision. “Maybe I haven't been able to pick anything because I wanted your input.” He mused as he joined her with a tray of cake for her to sample.” Margo twisted the cap of a bottle of water to cleanse her palette, then let him feed her a bite of traditional white cake with whipped icing. 

“Bland, too predictable.” She told him after she'd sipped the water again. She turned through the magazine. “I like the strawberry I tried, but it needs a different frosting.” Eliot hummed in agreement around the mouthful he'd tasted. 

“Now this one.” He told her as he extended a bit of lemon cake with a buttercream frosting. 

“That's really good.” He beamed at her; it was pretty clear he had favorites and was just waiting for someone other than Quentin to tell him he was right. They made it halfway through the tray before the portal mirror flickered and Quentin stepped through. He startled at the sight of her and gave her a sheepish grin.

“Hey, Margo.” 

“Interesting fact, Q. Time is moving faster on Earth than it is in Fillory, and Bambi likes the lemon buttercream combination.” 

“So is that the choice for the main tier?”

“I think so, but we haven't gotten to the chocolate samples yet, so don't hold your breath.” Quentin laughed as he slid into Eliot's lap. Long arms circled him to pull him close as Eliot tilted his head to kiss the smaller man's neck. They had developed an easiness in her absence, or maybe it was something they had found in their lifetime in Fillory's past and rekindled now that the world wasn't bearing down on them with the intent to destroy them. Eliot looked happy, and Margo wasn't sure if he could have found that same happiness in Fillory.

“If you need to go to bed, go.” Margo looked at them again to see that Quentin had twisted in Eliot's hold to rest his cheek against his chest. “I know you have classes to teach.” 

“If I go will the two of you promise to make some decisions? We need to start ordering everything.” 

“I'll help him narrow it down.” Something about Quentin brought out a softness in her, and Margo let it showcase itself in her tone. “Get some rest.” He gave her a grateful smile before tipping his chin to Eliot could give him a long kiss.

“Thanks,” Quentin told her once he was standing. He reached to squeeze her hand, and Margo saw a ring identical to Eliot's around his finger. “We missed you, Margo.” 

“I missed you too.” It wasn't anyone's fault that they had found separate lives on different worlds, they had done what was right in the moment, and it might have made them stronger in the long run.

**Author's Note:**

> This was more an exercise in scene setting and foreshadowing. Did you see the hints that they were engaged before the reveal? I hope everyone enjoyed this. 
> 
> Comments and kudos are love.


End file.
